confessional
by WhisperingLoudly
Summary: When you have a feeling that cameras are following your every move, fret not! It's a reality show; your one chance at keeping sanity is the confessional room-DUH! "Today, I found out that Ino had sex with a random stranger from the club in my bed." AU
1. Animal: Neon Trees

confessional

**the maniac: **WhisperingLoudly

**the label: **confessional

**the babble: **HIYA! This is my first story *gasp* ever, well, to publish to a website like FANFICTION; which is awesome, because, like, it just is. :D You have no idea how hard it is—if you're not a writer—to begin a story. The whole page is, like, blank! It's so counterproductive. LOL.

So, um, I guess this is where I say…

**the police: **I don't own Naruto!

OKAY! Now I can add an uber awesome divide line and continue! YES!

* * *

Sitting in the (amazing, cool, utterly awesome-sauce) spinning chair of her island counter where she usually ate her breakfast, which, quite frankly, looked like burned pancake but tasted like manufactured cardboard with syrup on top, Sakura Haruno stared out from the gorgeous view she had from her apartment window.

Sometimes she wondered how she even managed to_ dig up_ enough money to afford the place. The walls were painted an adorable, good-morning-sunshine yellow in the kitchen, black, white, gray and red mosaic tiles plastered to the wall above the white molding that split threw the middle, all the appliances clean and stainless steel and _NEW_. A red teapot screamed on the stove, steam forcing its way through the small hole allotted.

Just as the (gorgeous, pretty, cute) rosy-haired girl choked down the last piece of her charcoal pancake—damn timer forgetting to go off (damn her forgetting to set the timer—and rose to skip over toward the screeching teapot, her cell phone roared to life, vibrating closer and closer to the edge of the island that she was _just at_.

Her pastel green eyes widened in horror, one arm reaching for the teapot, about to remove it from it's heated agony, the other reaching reaching reaching for her brand spanking new cell phone that she received as a birthday present, it seemingly getting farther away from her and closer to teetering to the edge, then back to the middle, then to the edge, then dancing on said edge…

Sakura finalized that her cell phone falling to the hardwood flooring—and DYING!—was much more vital than her tea being absolutely atrocious, since her breakfast wasn't the shining glory of delectable, and she leaped back toward the island.

The following was like slow motion, her outstretching her body like a lioness going in for the pounce as she passed cabinet by cabinet, collided with every, of four, bar-stool spinning chairs, sending them tumbling to the hardwood, loud clattering of metal and plastic meeting artificial bamboo, and her phone! Her dear phone was flipping in midair as it rang, the screen lighted as consequence to someone calling her, the ten digits (seven plus area code) highlighted in yellow, and her damn fingers weren't long enough. They were stupid, stupid, stupid green-manicured stubs, and when she plopped to the floor with a loud, echoing thud, her syrup, which she had left uncapped and—of course—close to the edge, fell onto her head, stick goop blocking her vision, messing her hair, turning cotton-candy pink into…brownish maple…gross.

However, not one bit of that mattered; it did not matter that she was bruised and bloodied because of ramming into her once loved spinning chairs, them falling on top of her legs and ankles, she on top of them in the torso area, it did not matter that Mrs. Butterworth's would have to be paying for her next trip to the hair salon, all that mattered was that her phone landed right into her cupped palms, still vibrating and ringing.

She let out a breath that she had no idea she was holding as she flipped her lengthy (syrup drenched) pink locks over her shoulder, and pressed the green 'TALK' button on her cell phone, simultaneously sticking the screen to her ear.

"Hello?" Sakura answered.

* * *

A deep voice on the opposite end of the receiver _sounded_ like he was grinning. "Hello! This is Hatake Kakashi; would this be Uzumaki Naruto?"

The teenager—who was currently draped in sheets, his comforter thrown sidewise across his bum, bright orange fabric touching the carpet of his bedroom, ramen cups thrown underneath the mattress peeking out—snorted a _huge_ snot rocket before yanking the soft, soft, soft pillow once covering his wild, disarrayed golden blond hair, into a wall across from him.

He clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth a couple of times before moaning. "Is this animal control because I swear that thing growing in my refrigerator is _still_ getting bigger and it _growled_ at me last night…"

* * *

"No…?" Kakashi answered warily, his voice obviously cautious.

A beautiful platinum blonde sneered at nothing, her angry attitude skyrocketing further. Whom did this guy think he was, calling her at stupid nine o'clock in the morning, interrupting her vital beauty sleep?

She snapped the elastic of her sleep mask that read 'COME BACK LATER!' in pretty pink and white cursive on her perfect porcelain smooth skin once more, a stress relieving activity that also kept her awake. It was like a BOGO. Buy a slap to the face by elastic, get pain with price, _but_ open eyes and stress relief for free.

Ino's mouth fell open brutishly, her head bobbling in anger. "Okay, then, like, why are you calling me!" Her baby blue eyes were furious.

* * *

Neji Hyuuga—yes, the one ranked number three on the World's Hottest List—held up a finger, pausing his uncle from running to fetch the security to stalk this caller by the phone number and personally deal with him, which usually involved the things hidden in the basement.

Everyone knew that if you called the Hyuugas without reason announced within the first forty-five seconds of the call, your life was practically over.

However, lucky for this fellow, Neji was a little more merciful and had just come in from his morning jog around town.

"This is Neji; my uncle said you wanted to speak with me about something?" His pearly eyes were curious, narrowing a fraction of a centimeter.

Kakashi was so tired, yet he sustained a yawn, slapping a hand in his face. All previous energy from his last calls was _gone_. "Hello, Neji. This is Hatake Kakashi—I'm announcing you've been accepted to be on the next season of Real Life, filmed in Konoha."

* * *

Sasuke leaned against the doorframe of his kitchen, bare, toned and leaned chest exposed, as he was only donning his dark boxers, his cell phone pressed against his cheek and shoulder.

His usually unreadable obsidian eyes widened so that from the comfort of the kitchen table, Itachi actually paused in the middle of blowing his coffee cooler, charcoal brown eyes narrowing a twitch in reaction. Whomever his little brother was talking to has enough news to cause an actual show of emotion from Sasuke; he inhaled the smell of dark coffee cocoa bean while he watched his brother with analytical, observant eyes.

The younger of the Uchiha brothers echoed him, "_Reality_ show?"

"Yes," Kakashi nodded, "a reality show. You would be a fantastic addition to the cast already chosen, Uchiha-san."

Sasuke peeled off the doorframe, moving his hand to the telephone, allowing his head to move and shoulder to breathe. He walked over to the coffeepot, pressing a few buttons of preference before pressing start.

He questioned once finished, "Would you mind telling me _when_ I auditioned for this _reality show_?"

Itachi rose his eyebrows in amusement, a crooked grin painting his already gorgeous features as he screeched out of his seat, placing his coffee mug and saucer—that once contained a delicious banana nut muffin—into the dishwasher. He remembered sending in a tape of when his foolish little brother was…tipsy, a few clipped sections of him talking to himself in the mirror, and a few portions of interviews from his 'fan girls'.

That was a fun time. A very fun time.

Itachi grinned again when Sasuke choked on his spit. "I never sent in a video of me _talking _to myself in the—….why in the mother fucking hell would I sign off on that?"

He also forged his signature.

* * *

Hinata signed her signature on the lighted screen in front of her, pressing the 'OKAY' button afterword. She grinned, "A-Alrighty. Anything else, ma'am?"

The cashier shook her head, unable to continue with the fake protocol smiles, and smiled a genuine smile; the girl was just so honestly sweet that you couldn't be false! "No, nothing else would be needed, Hyuuga-san," she handed her her credit card, the plastic rounded rectangle having paid for the early morning shopping session, then the bags of clothes and shoes.

Normally, she wouldn't be at the mall at such an hour, but she had slept over at one of her friends' houses. Hinata took the shopping bags, generously handing one over to TenTen, and continuing down their path in the mall.

Speaking of, the girl with the chocolate colored hair tied up in tight, traditional styled twin buns groaned when her cell phone jingled again.

"Hinata-chan! This creep-o keeps on calling me—look," TenTen pressed a few buttons on the device, and then shoved it into the meek girl's face. Hinata, almost having to cross her eyes just to get the image to be seen clearly, could only feel an odd sense of knowing toward that number.

She pulled out her own telephone, and compared the numbers. This person had been calling her too!

Hinata gasped, "That's far too strange to be considered a coincidence, TenTen-san. Perhaps we both won a frequent shoppers contest?"

TenTen popped her lips. "I don't even _shop_ that much, though. Here—I'll wait until he calls again."

Seconds later, Hinata's cell phone rang. The porcelain doll yelped in shock, a few people shopping in the children's section eyeing her cautiously, and she scuttled in small circles in apprehension. TenTen gripped her frail shoulders, almond-shaped eyes serious, locked on Hinata's frantic pale purple.

"Get a grip girl! Answer the phone!"

The Hyuuga-heiress wheezed a, "Okay," before flipping the top of her cell phone up.

TenTen was literally pressed against her, trying to hear each and every word.

"H-H-Hello?" Hinata squeaked, her heart beating in her throat. This was so nerve-wracking!

A rumbling chuckle filled the speaker. "You sure take your time in answering the phone, don't you, Hinata-san? Before you ask," Hinata shut her mouth, "this is Hatake Kakashi, this year's host of Real Life. You have been chosen as part of the cast!"

The cell phone was ripped out of Hinata's frozen-in-shock hands, and TenTen screamed, "NO FREAKING WAY, DUDE! Did I get picked too?"

Kakashi sighed, "Who are you?"

"TenTen. I don't have a last name because those are lame and I am cool. Me and Hina entered together."

A couple beats passed, and Mr. Hatake sighed again. "Yes, you have. Tell Hinata, since, apparently, you are close enough to her to have taken her cell phone, that shooting begins in a month—details will be texted to you. You'll met your fellow cast members at that time, so long as you both agree to be on the show this season…"

The girl without last name didn't waste a millisecond, "Hell to the freaking yeah we'll be there!"

* * *

Sakura grinned widely, her cute dimples in the middle of her cheek showcased. "Sure! That's awesome! I have to ask Tsunade-sama if I can miss work for that long, but, I'll see you there, Kakashi-san!"

* * *

Ramen slurped into his mouth, from who knows where—he thought he was out like a month ago—, and Naruto chuckled, flashing his trademark grin. "Super cool stuff! Dude, be sure to see me there!"

* * *

Ino finished applying her lip-gloss, winking at her reflection. "I suppose I could find a way to make it to this 'Cast Introduction' thing, Kakashi, as long as you don't make anymore morning calls. I've lost precious minutes because of you, not-so-kind-sir!"

* * *

"I'll see you there," Neji couldn't keep his emotionless mask from falling, a small smile cracking onto his face.

* * *

Sasuke sneered, "Fine. I'll be there."

.

**X**

.

_**Confessional**_

.

**Episode One**

"_**Animal-Neon Trees"**_

.

The backdrop was a pretty, clean, chic urbane setting, deep in the heart of Konoha, cars zooming by only to be stopped by the dreaded stoplight flashing red, taxis swerving throughout traffic in a way that should be deemed illegal, people yelling, "Hey!" and much more obscene comments at said taxi drivers, and sky-scrapers—buildings as tall as a child's dreams of monsters, dinosaurs and giants casting shadows onto especially darkened alleyways. Businessmen and women practically sped in their fancy black shoes, heavy suitcases and briefcases swinging up and down as they ran. Some would agitatedly grumble, throwing a hand up to their sweat-drenched foreheads when the person walking would turn to a stop hand, five fingers outstretched like a toddler telling you how old he was.

Sakura looked at all of this through wide, admiring green eyes from the tinted black windows of the limo—yes, limo—she was in, face plastered to the glass so that she was probably living foggy mist all over it. She could care less, though; she'd never for a second been out of her small town, just far enough from Konoha to need an excessively lengthy limo ride, but not far enough to feel obliged to buy a plane ticket. She wasn't some brat that would get in a plane just to go from state to state, or county to county, when they were _right_ next to each other.

A warm, yet nauseating feeling swarmed over her, and it wasn't carsickness. If it weren't for the cameraman filming her right now—hello, ever hear of personal space?—in the next seat over, trying to blend in to the surroundings of black leather, she would've just tilted her head back, into the sky and screamed. She was _nervous_. What if these people didn't like her? In all honesty, she wasn't the most liked person in the world, in the town, in the hospital, in high school—hell, she wasn't even cherished in a home setting! Her sister would take the spotlight in academics, her younger brother taking the stage for sports. She was never as good at math as Momoko, and, seeing as she could barely fit a football into her tiny palm, Satoshi practically killed her when they would play tag football.

Safe to say, she was a very, very, very, sad victim to the middle-child syndrome.

Sakura sighed, her cheeks deflating as a balloon popped by a pin, when she felt familiar eyes on her once again. She turned her body away from the mirror, skin ripping off the leather uncomfortably, leaving the most attractive red marks on her thighs, and she spared a furtive glance at the cameraman.

"Hi," she said shyly, grinning lightly.

When the teenager, because really, he looked no older than her sister, who was twenty-one this year, burned a red so bright that he radiated, round, round, round black eyes widening to the size of beach balls—which was a lot to say, since his eyes protruded before—and let his mouth hang open in shock, Sakura cleared her throat, and turned away from him.

He basically undressed her three times with his eyes in a maximum of five seconds. The rosette took another shaky breath; as if things weren't awkward before, her choice of greeting had given him a sense of confidence, and he smiled, teeth so white they _glowed_.

The kid could have a job with Colgate if he wasn't too busy working so hard on growing his eyebrows.

The cameraman gleamed, "Hello! I am Rock Lee, and who may you be, beautiful sun blossom?"

Sakura stared at him blankly, a tightening feeling arising in her chest. He _liked _her. "I'm Sakura—"

"What a beautiful name that is for a beautiful girl, if I may say so myself, Sakura-chan! We are almost at the destination so if you do not mind, I must film you for the show saying a few things about expectations!"

The rosette nodded, about to agree, before she fully rethought his statement, remembering seeing the flashing of the telltale red recording light flashing on the professional camera. She raised a light eyebrow, "What have you been doing this whole time, then?"

Lee laughed casually, even though it was far too constrained. "I was just getting extra frames, Sakura-chan."

She stared evenly at him. "For whom?"

His grin fell flat for a mere second, and he blushed. "That is not of importance!"

**.X****.**

The first person to arrive at the destination—a new Starbucks that was conveniently empty for filming purposes—was, not so surprisingly, Neji, his beloved cousin and 'younger sister' Hinata in tow seconds behind him. Their identical milky eyes swept over the coffee shop that had quickly become a filming set, microphones hanging from ceilings, people adjusting lights, and, already flying to their aid, a full make up crew.

Hinata sneezed daintily when a blush brush was pushed into her face, light powder making its way into her nostrils.

Her hands immediately flew up to the captor of the plainly spoken evil makeup utensil, and she grasped the now slightly shaken, makeup technician's wrist.

"I think I'm fine," she insisted, a small smile on her face, "I put on enough this morning. What would your name be?"

The girl, a tall, tanned, skinny girl with hollow purple eyes that resembled those of an owl's, looked completely startled. Did she do something incorrectly? Was following the boss's order of 'fixing' the cast before camera call, well, those cast that arrived before said camera call, a wrong thing to do? Was she too rash? Was she going to get fired?

Hinata seemingly read the young woman's mind, patting her shoulder sympathetically, an understanding giggle passing her lips. "I'm not going o get you fired. I would just like to know the name of the person who will be doing my makeup, is all. It's a…mental thing," she grinned, "I promise you're n-not in any trouble."

The skinny girl smiled brightly, flipping her blush brush back into her little apron. "My name is Reni. You're Hinata-san, right?"

Reni poked a pointer finger to her chin, turning her head to the head, twisting her expression into a strained one. She remembered seeing the face somewhere; maybe the casting room, during that important meeting that she just so happened to sleep through?

(Okay, fine, she did sound paranoid about getting fired earlier, and it makes no sense for her to be so paranoid over the firing if she would just sleep during every meeting, but, excuse her, it was a Sunday, and she just so happened to enjoy partying until the sun was up on Fridays.)

The pale porcelain heiress nodded. "Yes, and that's my cousin, Neji," She turned toward him, only to see a jumbled mess of make up supplies and two upturned make up tech's moaning, trapped by the Hyuuga's strong grasp around their ankles.

"Don't ever even try to put make up on me again," Neji said calmly, though the tone and depth turned the simple piece of advice into a deadly threat." He lifted the two men higher, their heads getting further from the floor. "Are there any questions?" Neji allotted a two-millisecond pause before dropping the two of them, dusting his hands off on his dark colored shorts.

He stared at them with cold eyes. "I'll drop you from the top of the Hokage Mansion next time."

Hinata scratched the side of her face, an embarrassed blush crawling onto her cheeks. She cleared her throat, barely meeting Reni's vibrant purple eyes, "He normally doesn't behave so impulsively."

Reni smiled, "Oh, it's no problem. Guys always react like that the first few days."

A couple beats past, the two girls watching as the men on the floor struggled to get up, an obviously perturbed expression etched onto their faces, scary, straggly breaths and moans exiting their mouths. Then, they say Neji, already seated at a circular booth, eyeing the small menu placed on the table, not a miniscule hint of guilt in his attitude. He almost seemed…relieved?

Hinata sighed, "If you say so, Reni-chan…hey, is there a bathroom—"

The doors of the establishment barged open, slamming the opposite walls, so loudly that the Hyuuga heiress turned on her heeled shoes, a hand almost rushing to her chest to calm her racing pulse. She almost regretting her choice to do so, because her heart only went faster, from seeing the suntanned skin, wild, unruly spiky golden, sun-kissed hair, and, oh, Kami, those blue, piercing eyes so reminiscent to the mid-afternoon ocean, glistening with such youthful spirit.

"Hey, hey, hey, people!" Naruto bellowed, raising a hand in a wave, the other still holding his Tomahawk skateboard. He took long strides in his sandals, tan, blue, and brown plaid pattern shorts ruffling as he walked. The soft cotton of his light blue t-shirt contoured his muscles in a way Hinata never thought possible, and—DAMN! She was staring and he was walking toward her and she was blushing!

(And everyone knows that when Hinata is blushing the consequential step is to always faint and when she faints, oh, dear, there was this one time she didn't get up until an half-hour later, and everyone was so scared for her, but she was fine. There was just too much blood coloring her face, not circulating in her veins, as they were supposed to. Duh.)

The blonde stopped literally right in front of Hinata, who was currently chanting in her mind to breath—_in out in out pause in out pause in out in out_—and he grinned. "Hi, I'm Naruto," Naruto stuck out a hand to shake.

And Hinata fainted. Right in front of him. Great.

**.X****.**

Ino Yamanaka was one of those girls who had not patience enough to wait for her own luggage to come around on the conveyer belt. She didn't like standing around with _normal_ people, who were probably just on a business trip, or visiting family in Konoha. She was a freaking Yamanaka. Her family is basically royalty in Suna.

So why did she fly in a commercial airplane? Like, what is 'Southwest'? What is that?

Is that like a direction?

She groaned, popping a hip out, placing a hand in the curve of her waist. This will be worth being ridiculously famous.

However, something itched at the back of her mind, and she turned toward the cameraman behind her, a person who looked, honestly, her age—maybe this was some type of summer job? Ew, work…—and had strangely pineapple-like hair, gravity non-effective on his ponytail.

Ino smiled sweetly, "Hi."

"…," He stared at her, smiling and all, obviously expecting a response, and grumbled a quick, "Hello."

"When am I supposed to be at Starbucks for the meeting with the cast? I just, like, _feel_ late, you know? And where in the bloody hell is my luggage?"

Shikamaru felt a wave of disbelief splash over him. Did she _not_ notice that a few crew people had gotten her—atrociously—pink carriers and put them in the limo at least thirty minutes ago? He just thought that she was standing there, staring at the conveyer belt until it exploded. The flight information had even changed.

This girl is stupid. "We were supposed to be there five minutes ago and the crew got your luggage. It's already at the—" he informed dryly, only to be interrupted.

Ino's baby blue eyes widened, and she screeched. "NO WAY, DUDE! We need to jet, then!" She scuttled in her heels (stilettos) toward him, hooking her arm with his by the elbows, not slowing a bit. "Let's go!"

She hated being late.

**.****X****.**

Sakura smiled, quite forcibly, when Lee opened the door for her, struggling with keeping the heavy filming equipment intact and in his hand, and acting as a gentleman, holding the doorway.

She nodded her head lightly, "Thank you, Lee-san."

(She hoped and prayed that he would not go on some rant about how beautiful of a cherry blossom she was, how youthful her grin was in the morning sunlight, how amorous her loving would be to the one and true love of her life in the night.)

Rock Lee exclaimed once Sakura was far away from the door for him to back away, the swinging glass swinging closed. "Oh, you're welcome, beautiful cherry blossom, Sakura-chan. You are the shining youth of my life—"

"That's nice," Sakura cut off. Honestly, she wasn't trying to sound bitchy, it was just that she had a whole other hour ride with the guy, and he just would not shut up. Flattery does go a long way, yes, but sometimes, that direction is only down. Like, down into the firing, burning, pits of hell.

The teen with the bowl cut swallowed back another loud compliment, for now was a time to begin filming for the show, and he tried hard to sound professional when he informed, "Sakura-chan, this is when you introduce yourself to the rest of the cast. You're one of the last ones here."

The roseate bobbed her head, layered pink hair moving, and a sudden envelope of fear was cast over her again. Was her outfit too…normal? Jean shorts and a Rolling Stones t-shirt were acceptable to wear right? Would all of Japan think she was a lazy bum because she didn't dress up? A girl with dark, almost blue hair was wearing a dress, no matter how summery, it was still a dress, and the girl next to her was wearing…okay, fine, she was wearing some shorts and a sweatshirt. It's okay then, that she looks okay.

She took cautious steps forward, then smacked herself. This was going to be on TV! She was going to be living with these people for the next few months! Why would she want them to think that she was some shy nut?

…even if she kind of is a nut.

Therefore, she took confident strides toward the full table, a grin in place as she waved. "Hey! I'm Sakura!"

It seemed like a pointless conversation had been interrupted, because all of the talk filling the otherwise empty air exited, and a multitude of "Hey",s "Hi",s and "What's up?",s bombarded her eardrums. Strong arms found her waist in a hug, all she seeing a flash of golden hair before she could prepare herself.

"I'm Naruto! Believe it!"

-**confessional**-

Naruto leaned back into the comfortable coffee colored sofa, a proud, cocky, charismatic smile spreading on his face from ear to ear.

He looked from left to right, then cleared his throat, staring into the camera without a lick of fear or nerves, not even dishonesty, in his sky blue.

"That Sakura-chick is sexy as fuck."

-**confessional**-

Sakura sat comfortably at the edge of the booth, right next to TenTen, the girl she saw in the hooded sweatshirt. The people all seemed nice enough, if she could say so herself. Some were more talkative, like Naruto, while others were more of the silent type, like Neji. Hinata was very quiet, shy and reserved, though when spoken to she was nothing but short of conversation that was logical. TenTen was the perfect embodiment of tomboy, talking to Naruto about skateboards and tricks, acting as if that was the most important thing in the world.

She counted the circle over about twice, reaching only five, including herself, and decided that wasn't even close to the normal amount of people on a show. Maybe people were still late. Maybe there were already people at the hotel?

Her thoughts were quickly interrupted when the doors were thrown open again, a blonde girl, that was undeniably attractive, crashed in, applying lip gloss with one hand, the other balancing the hand mirror.

How vain.

The girl's heels clicked on the wooden floors of the coffee shop, and she stopped in front of the table, a look akin to shock in her features. She scanned each face, each outfit, each quality of hair, then scoffed.

These people weren't even TV without cable worthy. Maybe that boy with the sexy-licious eyes could make it on to channel 7, but, please, could he get some personality?

With a huff, she plopped down next to the pink-haired girl that looked like some elf maiden person pulled straight out of some RPG game. Seriously. Look at her _hair._

Ino smiled lightly when she felt too many eyes on her, "Hi, I'm Yamanaka Ino. And you all would be?"

They went around counterclockwise, starting with Naruto, and ending with Sakura.

"Is your name _really _TenTen? Like the numbers?"

The aforementioned brunette tomboy grimaced. "Is your name really Ino, like I'm surprised you even know that ten is a number?"

Ino smiled girlishly. "Honey, please, direct your stupidity toward someone who cares."

Sakura had a feeling that the house bitch was already starting to claim her territory.

**.****X****.**

The whole 'cast' was beginning to grow irritated at the last cast member's absence, he (or she) being almost a whole hour and a half late.

Naruto had left to get some coffee for all the tired, dying people five minutes ago. And. He. Still. Wasn't. Back.

There's nobody in the store except for them! Like, how long does it take to buy a couple lattes when the hurdle of a line is nonexistent?

The roseate girl was on the verge of simply passing out in a form of sleep when Shikamaru, one of the cameramen, tapped her on the shoulder, awakening her. "Kakashi and the last cast member are outside the door. Look alive."

That seemed too difficult.

Sakura reluctantly rose from lying on the table, removing her head from the comfortable cage that was her arms. She rubbed the crust out of her eyes, just in time to fully see the two people come through the Starbucks doorway, the first older and with gravity-defying silver hair, black glasses covering his eyes, the second wearing so much black that she couldn't see him in the shadows.

She told herself that was why her eyes never left his form. The smooth, graceful way he walked was just a small hint toward how gorgeous he had to be, the contour of purposely messy hair showing in the shadows.

"Guys, I got the coffee!" Naruto yelled in a singsong voice, stepping with life toward the table.

Sakura was the happiest person in the world until her brain went to work, measuring the speed at which Naruto was going, and how fast the cute-boy was traveling, a non-avoidable collision in the near future.

She almost yelled out a warning to the blonde, but that was before the cute-boy passed by a window, rays of light revealing his face. Dear Kami, his face was carved carefully by angels, artist angels, Kami's favorite artist angels, the most talented. He looked like heaven itself.

Ino let out a dreamy sigh beside her, and Sakura glanced at her, missing the collision completely, but not the sound of a tray falling to the ground, loud curses seconds before thuds and crashes, splashing indicating the (delicious, vital, _needed_) coffee had spilled.

"What the—Sasuke-teme?" Naruto accused, his voice getting softer, as if he had recognized the final cast member.

Sasuke glared, sloshing coffee off of his pants. "Dobe," he spat out his greeting, and almost the whole table rose a brow.

They _knew_ each other?

* * *

**a/n: **_BUMBUMBUUUUUUMMMM! What does this mean to all the other housemates? Find out next chapter of...confessional!_

_LOL. I'm so lame. _

_Anyway, please please please review. Critism is accepted. I'm trying to get better here. LOL. _

_Review=Cookie=Chocolate Chip=Happiness, therefore Review=Happiness and who doesn't want happiness? or Cookies?_

_~WhisperingLoudly_


	2. Weightless: All Time Low

confessional

**the maniac: **WhisperingLoudly

**the label: **confessional

**the babble: **Thanks for all the support last chapter! I hope I didn't keep you all waiting for _too_ long—then again, I am in summer school and sports, so I do have a little somewhat life myself—but here is chapter two! As for when to _**expect**_ _**updates**_, let's keep the first estimate at _**every**_ _**two weeks**_. Unless I get sudden and sporadic inspiration like today. LOL

**the questions (and answers!): **

Pretty Much Everyone: Why does Ino have to be the bitch? AWWWWW!

Whisper: Because she is the easiest choice, seeing as I abhor Karin too much to make her a main character, and it wouldn't be as fun to write if the whole world got along! I mean, would _you_ watch Real World or any other reality show if everyone were best friends from the get go? I thought not! LMAO

**the police: **I don't own Naruto. Sorry. :(

* * *

Sakura ran a hand through her pink hair, fingertips massaging her scalp for just a moment, before exhaling a heavy sigh, closing her eyes in exasperation.

One could only assume—with all the noise and argument Naruto was making with Cute-Boy (because she _still_ didn't know his name!) in the limo, grumbling and groaning about every little thing, whether it had life, like a person, say Neji and what shampoo he uses, or something inanimate, like which wine stored in the limo cooler tastes best—that the two were, if not anything worse, sworn enemies. It was obvious that they knew each other from somewhere, since strangers don't threaten to castrate people with their own hands (like, what the fuck?). She could assume with surety that they knew each other from school, or possibly (not, seeing as Naruto is a dooftard/doofus retard hybrid) work.

Besides all the commotion caused by the blonde and the darker-haired, there was that Ino-chick groaning every three seconds about how the leather of these seats were "Dried cow dung" compared to her "Heavenly limo with pink detailing and top of the line wines". She would kick her legs out, trying and, obviously, not succeeding to her standards, to get comfortable, punching an already steaming TenTen in the face.

Sakura sighed, bringing a hand to her (totally normal sized) forehead. Those two were not going to get along. Ever. Especially considering TenTen just seethed at the spoiled blonde, eyes just short from glowing red in a demon-like fashion.

She was stuck between the bickering four year olds, and soon started contemplating on whether or not it would be smart to just sit next to Shikamaru while he 'blended into' the surroundings. Even though he was wearing all black in the summer heat, he was obviously seen.

Either way, Sakura decided, he was a better trade off than Lee.

Her attention was quickly diverted from which cameraman she had met was more compatible toward at least making decent conversation with her—and not being a creep-o almost stalker—when the two boys on either side of her got in another intense argument.

Cute-boy scoffed, a threatening, menacing smirk painting his features. "Right—right, that all makes perfect sense, Dobe. Just keep telling yourself that."

Sakura couldn't help but move her gaze to the left, towards Naruto, awaiting his retort.

"This is why you don't have any friends at all, Sas—"

The limo came to a sudden, jerking halt, sending bodies lurching forward, and a certain roseate right into the lap of her 'Cute-Boy'.

Face. First.

* * *

.

**XX**

.

_**Confessional**_

**.**

**Episode One, Part Two**

"_**Weightless-All Time Low"**_

**.**

Silence engulfed the limousine whole, a giant Godzilla monster grabbing the sleek black in its huge, slimy, scaly green hands and shoving the metal into its mouth, chewing a couple times as the tin of the carburetor crunched against his teeth, Ino's pretty, spoiled bones cracking when meeting the overgrown canine teeth. The spit would be so acidic that everyone would die before going down the esophagus, continuing in the digestive process, and, then, everyone would forget that she was currently smelling the zipper of Cute-Boy's pants.

It was _that_ serious.

It was so serious that TenTen had stopped slamming her head against her hand in aggravation toward Ino sputtering incompetently in shock at what the stupid Elf Girl was doing, that Neji had stopped glaring into space, that Hinata had stopped ogling at Naruto as he stared with wide, wide, wide sky blue eyes at the current situation Sakura was in.

And all the while, Sakura was frozen. Until Naruto's lips twitched into a huge smile, ear-to-ear, and let out a bellowing hoot of laughter, pointing at Cute-Boy. "That's probably the closest you've ever gotten to getting—!"

With a sharp intake of breath, Sakura shrieked, a loud earsplitting noise that could've easily broken glass, as she…twitched…off of Sasuke, a look of pure horror and wrongdoing etched on her face. She was disobeying the word! Her mother's word! ON TV! She was practically giving a guy she barely knew oral with his clothes on while being filmed and it was going to be on TV! What-what-WHAT IF HER PASTOR SEES THIS? What if her DAD sees this!

Her throat ached as she screamed decibels that definitely should not be attainable by humans, but she didn't stop. She was going to be labeled as some slut! She was going to be the show slut and, like, she's not a slut! She's a med-student!

"Would you stop?" A voice said from the front of the limo, a new, kind of somewhat familiar voice that no one was quite used to, and, saying that, it was quite natural for everyone's confused gaze to be ripped from the screeching rosette to the driver's seat. Slowly, Sakura's cries of terror, shock, evil, and pure un-goodness, came to a stop, it eerily quiet with the shrilling noise gone.

Sasuke folded his arms, arrogantly jutting his chin out and away from Sakura. He almost looked…disgusted? No, that wasn't the word. Maybe it was like: disgusted/annoyed/pissed off/near-deaf?

That sounds more like it.

The funny thing was, he didn't even have to express his repulsion in words to let everyone know how he was feeling.

Icy blue eyes saw the exchange, grinning sourly when catching the watery film covering the Elf Girl's (yes, she's calling her elf because she's short and skinny and, excuse me; THE HAIR) pure, emerald green eyes, the pouty lip, and the obviously guilty, saddened, and _was that disappointed_ aura emitting from her pores. Ino found it oh so interesting how, after being in a limo with the guy for less than a half hour, on the way to their new 'house'—an hotel in the heart of the city—that the girl just happened to 'fall' onto the lap of Mr. Hot Stuff at a stoplight. Maybe it was fate, maybe it was destiny, maybe just coincidence or fault to gravity, but either way, she didn't like the faint pink dusting her cheeks.

Even if it was from embarrassment.

She. Did. Not. Like. It. Because she never had competition when it came to boys, and she definitely did not allow said competition to get a head start. It simply was not allowed.

Ino sighed, fixing the arrangement of her bangles with concentrated fingers. "Thank you, Sakura-san, for ending your audition for the latest horror film. I'm sure the directors all enjoyed having their eardrums _implode_." She clapped twice, smiling forcibly, a sick entertainment in her eyes, "Bravo, bravo."

The aura, once a normal kind of silence after someone destroyed their first impression on a deliciously hot Grade: A piece of man-meat, turned cold, icy, under the glaring contest the girls were now having.

Seconds away from tears rolling out of their full ducts, Sakura ripped her eyes away from Ino's and sniffed, rubbing her cheek (in, hopefully, a nonchalant manner) with the back of her hand as she bit her thick bottom lip until the color completely left it.

"Sorry, then," She muttered, twisting toward the glass, looking at all the cars that were also waiting impatiently at this stoplight.

Stupid stoplight.

Stupid, stupid stoplight.

Tch, stupid, stupid stoplight without a brain.

That therefore makes it stupid.

Stupid.

Tch.

A soft tap met her shoulder, which she ignored dutifully, continuing her mental rant about how stupid retarded stoplights are, especially this one that was stupid. When more determined taps reached her arm, she reluctantly looked toward the tapper, childish blue eyes, tanned skin, and golden eyebrows filling her vision.

"Are you okay?" Naruto asked softly, an air of understanding in his husky, albeit scratchy and warm, voice. It was almost soothing.

Almost.

Sakura shrugged lifelessly, turning back to the mirror, tensing when the limousine started up again, gripping the small ledge she was leaning on for dear life. She was _not_ going to fall on him again.

"I'm fine," she replied in a whispery voice. "Perfectly fine."

Naruto looked her over again, his heart panging a little at the obvious dole in her voice, then shook his head at Ino, who was waving away something Hinata—that was her name, right?—had said, most likely something along the lines of "Why did you do that?".

"If you say so, Sakura-chan." He murmured, eyes soft watching the rhythmic up and down of her shoulders as she breathed, hardening when looking toward his best friend. That was such a bastard move.

**.****XX****.**

A pretty, yet crudely dressed, redhead clicked down the sidewalks of downtown Konoha, her younger half-brother just steps behind her, carrying bags of clothes in both of his hands, a look of patient irritation on his face. She adjusted her glasses before quickly glancing from left to right for cars.

When there none, a whole ration of cars honking at a red light that would _not_ change, she continued down the crossing, looking with mild interest at certain cars. She spent a long second looking at a limo in the front of one of the lines as she walked across the street, slowing down as she peered (rudely) into the window, waves of knowing running through her upon eyeing the driver.

Where had she seen him before?

"Nii-chan, they call it a walkway for a reason," Juugo said calmly, politely, softly, as it always was with his voice. Karin would always wonder how it was he sounded like such a…goody two shoes…but then she would remember that they had different fathers, and that could make a lot of things different between them. She had red hair and vermillion eyes, he having orange hair and ginger eyes. Both inherited from their fathers.

However, Karin had the attitude of Mom down packed.

She looked back at her half-brother, a growl passing her lips as she looked up to his tall monster-like frame. "Do you think I don't know that, _citrus-plant_?" She seethed, a quick glance toward him going back to the driver in that limo.

The silver-gray hair just naturally sticking up in the air, a black half mask covering his mouth and one eye, shiny black glasses over both of them.

Karin smiled, ignoring all the honking horns directed to none other but her, seeing as the light was definitely green now, and she was just standing in the middle of the street, doing nothing.

"Ne, Juugo-nii, lets go to another store instead of home, okay?"

He sighed, allowing her to grab hold of his large wrist and yank him back in the opposite direction to the sidewalk they were on just seconds ago. His sister would be the death of him, one day. He hardly understood why women had a certain…life/death need toward shopping and spending money. It was almost every day that either his half-sister or mother went to a mall, or Walgreens, just to spend some money. If they didn't, the bitch meter would go haywire.

As they weaved through all the people going in the opposite direction as they were walking, Juugo groaned. "Why aren't we going back hom—"

"Because," Karin abruptly stopped, almost knocking down an elderly woman, "that was Hatake _Kakashi_."

Juugo stared at Karin expectantly, moving his shoulders in a shrug, shopping bags crinkling.

The redheaded girl grumbled an obscenity, then elaborated, "From the show? Real Life? You _have_ to know what that is. He's the host."

"How does this pertain to us not going back home? My feet are aching and I'm sure yours are as well." Juugo questioned, accidently letting some of his annoyance pass through in his voice. Usually he could keep it under control but he was tired, hungry, and in pain. An afternoon of mall hopping is not how young men should spend their days!

Karin smiled. "Well, if they're here, chances are high that they are staying at some fancy shmancy hotel, here, in Konoha. Having said that, they'll be partying here—in Konoha. And what, pray tell, little brother, do all Real Life cast _do_, their first night in a new city?"

Juugo shrugged, guessing. "Party?"

"How smart you are! I should get you a cookie," the redhead got on tiptoe in her heels and ruffled his macaroni colored hair, "Now, you know that they just finished building that new club over on Crenshaw a couple of days ago, and that it's opening night is _tonight_, right?" She didn't wait to see him nod, "Adding all that into the equation, the chances of them going to party at that club are higher than gas prices in New York! Take a guess at where I'm heading, then?"

The younger of the half-siblings rolled his eyes, answering her question, "Hopefully home. Soon."

Karin scoffed. She could not believe the stupidity of that boy. "Not. Come; follow, little brother."

Was he some type of dog?

**.XX****.**

Sakura was rudely awakened from her nap when the limo came to another abrupt halt, and thankful toward early-awakened reactions, she barely missed plopping onto the shoulder of the stupid boy. He's not Cute-Boy anymore. Because he's stupid. Like the stoplight.

She blinked away the remainder of her tiredness just in time to see that most everyone else was asleep if not on their way to sleep, just as she was; even Shikamaru had set down his camera and fallen asleep, his head lulling on Ino's shoulder.

The platinum blonde girl snuggled for a quick second until the soft hum of the engine completely disappeared. She opened her blue eyes, mountains of emotions bombarding her at once, just deciding to release one particular.

She pushed the still sleeping Shikamaru off her, scuttling away from him as if he were some new disease while she screamed, "EWW! Get off of me, you mega-freak! Is this freaking drool on my shirt?"

The rosette grinned. She hoped it was drool.

Even in his sleep, Shikamaru was on her side.

A ray of light flooded into the limo then, shrinking the irises of Sakura's green eyes so quickly that she winced in pain, eyes only adjusting to see the face of, who she guessed was their driver, who had opened the door for them.

He grinned beneath his mask, "Good afternoon, everybody. We've reached our destination so—"

"Is this the part of the show where everyone runs to get the best bed, because I feel as if I'm at a disadvantage because I'm wearing Vans and everyone knows that you cannot run in Vans," TenTen rambled, sticking out her long legs and pointing at, just as she said, torn up and weathered Vans, shoelaces half untied.

Sakura wondered for a moment if that was what they were about to do, too, because she was wearing heels, another type of shoe that didn't agree with running.

The driver shook his head from left to right. "Nope. Just come on out and, um, we'll go from there."

Reluctantly, with lots of grumbling, all seven of the cast members and Shikamaru climbed out of the limo, rubbing eyes, stretching, backs cracking, elbows popping, yawns passing lips. If there was one thing Sakura absolutely hated about the city of Konoha—the urbane city, not the cluster of cute towns circling it—was that everything was close, yes, but it took so long to get there. A short five minute walk in the town was turned to a half hour jog of weaving in and out of people, and if you got a car, the traffic would slow you to a turtle's run.

In short, she just didn't like cities.

She did like naps though.

A hand covered her mouth as she yawned, and, trying to ignore the cameras already encircling them—even if she felt like a super-cool movie star!—as she shook her head, she looked toward the driver, feeling like she had seen him before, somewhere.

Voicing her thoughts, Neji, who barely spoke in the first place, rose a dark brown eyebrow. "If you are simply a chauffer, shouldn't you be leaving now, sir?"

"Well," the driver laughed, a sound so reminiscent of _something_, "that might explain as to why I'm not a chauffer." He removed his glasses, and froze, smiling a smile that seemed so fake and practiced.

He looked toward a camera, humor in his one visible eye, and grabbed the nearest female—who just so happened to be TenTen—and hugged her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Hello, and welcome to the fifth season of The Real Life! I'm Hatake Kakashi, and I'm sure you're wondering—who are these people around me?" Kakashi laughed, that type of laugh that Ryan Seacreast laughs after somebody has a blatantly terrible audition, but he still chuckled just to make that FAIL a little bit easier to handle for the terrible singer.

"These are your new cast this season!" Kakashi announced, throwing his hands up in the air. TenTen took this opportunity with open arms and walked with such a wide gait that she was beside Sakura in less than a half a second. She wiped her brow while letting out a breath, "That was weird." She whispered.

The rosette smiled. "You looked like you were trying not to barf."

TenTen giggled silently, for she had a feeling that Kakashi was still…being…odd.

"This is…The Real Life!"

The cameras then were shut off, and Kakashi let out a breath, his cheeks deflating. He turned toward the seven people in front of him, smiling underneath his mask. "I hate speaking out the exclamation marks," he rubbed his cheeks as if in pain, to which everyone but Sasuke laughed at, seeing as he just smirked, "Either way, we still have to film your clip for the intro during the theme song entrance, so, if you would follow me."

**.****XX****.**

Hinata looked at her reflection in the mirror, hair down and plain, any remnants of makeup gone, and glanced up at Reni, who was mixing color palettes on the back of her hand. She was staring at her, well, Hinata always stared at people, it was a habit, but she could tell just from looking that her makeup tech was confident, and sure of herself.

Seconds later, big purple eyes flicked up and looked at the Hyuuga from the reflecting glass. "What's up?"

"I, um," Hinata scratched her neck, "I was wondering what you were planning to do for the clip? I mean—I—"

Reni laughed, "Tell me, Hinata-chan; what's your favorite color?"

Without a beat of hesitation, the porcelain doll answered, "Purple."

"Okay then," she grabbed another plastic container, and showed it to the Hyuuga, pointing to certain colors, "lavender looks best with periwinkle, if you want to do a daytime, light, smoky eye, and, for the lips, pink would look awesome on your skin tone. Keep it light though, because you don't want to look like a clown," Hinata laughed, "but, considering this is for TV, and there'll be lights everywhere…you might want to do something that would look pretty with your eyes."

She rummaged through a makeup bag and pulled out a brownish eyeliner and an almost peach orange. "This color orange looks _fabulous_ with a light purple like your eyes, especially with your skin color. However, you don't want to be all made up if your going to skateboard and stuff like your friend. Fabio is just flat ironing her hair and throwing on some concealer—a little blush and eyeliner if necessary. Maybe chap stick."

Hinata shrugged. "I'm not too special. TenTen-chan can skateboard, I'm sure Ino-san can just stand, pose, do a couple of twirls, smile and have a wonderful film, Neji-nii has his Martial Arts, Naruto—"

A splash of cold water met her face, and Hinata jumped, clearing her eyes by blinking, only to see a nozzle spray bottle in Reni's hand, the other hand of hers on her hip. "Give me a break, Hinata! You've got to have _something_ special about you—I mean, just look at yourself. You're over half as pretty as that blonde over there; the only thing she has you beat in is confidence."

The girl was silent, staring at her own reflection, eyes thoughtful.

So much time passed as she thought of something special about her that Reni just decided to get started on her hair, flat ironing it for a start, since she was almost sure that Hinata would look too bridal with curly hair, especially with her alabaster skin tone. Just when the technician pressed flat the last section, Hinata found her voice.

"I-I—I like art and things; painting, pottery. If it's possible to maybe do that, then, um—"

Reni smiled widely. "There's a studio across the street. I'm sure they'll let you make up some stuff free of charge; the owner is a freak over the show. Lets me get free lessons every Thursday," she pulled out a hair clip from a drawer, sliding the plastic closed with a quiet click. "You want your hair pinned up, right? For the whole 'artsy' look?"

Hinata nodded, a blush painting her cheeks, "H-Hai. Thanks, Reni."

She shrugged while brushing the blue-black smooth hair. "Don't mention it."

**.****XX****.**

Sakura waited impatiently while Ino worked on finishing skipping around the fake beach in the fake sand, getting suntan lotion rubbed on her by paid hot guys while she pretended to be tanning under the fake sun, which turned out to be super powered lights. She couldn't help but feel envious of how well Ino's body filled out the white, stringy bikini, or the way her teeth looked even whiter when she smiled for the camera, pretty blonde hair flowing down to the middle of her back, a single red flower clipped to hold back her bangs.

She stuffed her hands into the back pockets of her denim, rough washed jean shorts, grimacing when she glanced to the opposite of the beach set, only to see Sasuke—she found out his name while (not eavesdropping) listening to his short, quick conversation with his hairstylist. She couldn't help but (not eavesdrop) listen since they were seated right next to each other anyway—watching Ino's shooting with attentive, dark eyes.

That is disgusting. How her boobs bounce like retarded water balloons, and how Sasuke was just watching her bounce around, how she _knew_ she was just bouncing around because she knew she was watching him watching her bounce around. Yes, that makes sense if you read it slowly.

The rosette grumbled, her freshly loose-spiral curled hair shaking with body as she shook her head, staring at Sasuke. Thoughts of why she was staring at him filled her mind, but she pushed them away, staring at the aristocratic shaping of his nose, the near perfect symmetry of his features. His muscles weren't bulging and obvious as Neji's—not like she was complaining, hey—but they were lean, not soft, but there, like he didn't necessarily play sports, but he was good at them, like he didn't work out to beef up, but to stay in shape.

His dark eyes swept away from the sand grains that he was counting on the beach—because, god, that was the only thing keeping his attention—and toward that pink-haired girl. She yelped, blaring red before facing forward, acting as if she were actively into Ino's clip, as if she really thought it was the best thing on the Earth. He looked her over again, from head to toe, which didn't take long considering how _small_ she was, then narrowed his eyes slightly in thought.

A quietness filled the set when Ino got up from the sand, standing up and, oh-so-discretely, bending over to wipe sand off of her legs, giving Sasuke the perfect view of her butt. As if, he really wanted to see her ass. Ugh.

"TEME!"

Sasuke jumped slightly, the loud noise ripping him from (not staring) looking at the rosette, playing it off by lightly tapping his nose. He turned around, only to see his 'best friend'. He was forced to be that friends with that Dobe since birth, since their mothers were close enough to be considered aunts.

"What, Naruto?" The Uchiha drawled, tiredness obvious in his voice.

Naruto was as giddy as a four year old girl getting a pony for her birthday present. "Guess what, guess what, guess what!"

"…Did you put extra sugar in your cereal this morning?"

"NO! Just in my coffee. But, anyway, the people are letting me eat ramen for my clip! Which means _I_ get _free_ Ichiraku!"

Sasuke glanced toward Kakashi, who was one of the main decision makers along as being the host, and quarried over his intelligence. Who lets Naruto go to Ichiraku without a price limit?

He shrugged, making his way to the snack bar, intent on some ice-cold water. "Amazing," Sasuke muttered.

Naruto jogged after him, smiling. "I know! Hey-hey, anyway, what are you doing for yours, since you just can't stand and be bastardly?"

Portions of the blonde's life flashed through his mind when Sasuke ceased sipping his water, glaring freaking daggers at his best friend, wishing him damnation to a world without ramen, sugar, and coffee. The Dobe was addicted to coffee. When Naruto did nothing but shudder, sudden cold running through him, Sasuke rolled his eyes, balled up the Styrofoam cup, and tossed it into a garbage can.

"I was going to play my guitar," He answered dryly, already dreading Naruto's loud reaction.

"BUT TEME! That's misleading, because the sexy-licious girls that watch the show will think that you're the sweet-but-hot-but-understanding-guitar player slash singer and that totally makes them all swoon, and, you're not that! You're an asshole!"

Sasuke narrowed his eyes at him. "So what will these 'sexy-licious' girls think when they see you wolfing down ramen?"

Naruto smiled smugly, "They will think that I am an honest guy with a sense of humor, who happens to have amazing taste."

_Keep telling yourself that_, Sasuke mentally teased as he walked away, in the direction of the cameraman who was calling him over.

**.XX****.**

Sakura finished her series of flips, cartwheels, and handstands one last time before smiling openly in the direction of the camera, trying not to exude how tired she was in her eyes. She was the _last_ person to go. Absolute last. Naruto took forever at Ichiraku, and, since it would be absolutely absurd to _multitask_ and send half of the crew with Naruto, leaving another half for her, the sun was on its way down, the sky painted different shades of purple, orange, and blue.

She looked for the thumbs up of one of the potbellied camera guys, then deflated, falling like a puppet whose master had released the strings.

"Thanks, guys," Sakura thanked out of simple courtesy, but not of genuine gratitude. She was _tired_, and probably missed her chance at getting a decent bed, because literally everyone had left, gone into the hotel, following after Kakashi, who was gone too. It was just her. And the camera people.

Ugh.

She stepped off the built gymnastic set, stretching and yawning, rubbing her emerald eyes, blindly walking to what most looked like the building that the limo had dropped her off at hours ago. There couldn't be many huge, white, modern-looking hotels on the same street, but there sure were a bunch of sidewalks, and concrete, and gosh; so many people. If she remembered correctly, though…

"Where are you going?" A deep voice questioned from beside her, and she yelped a little, hearing instructing her to flick her head to the left, to a huge maple tree next to a, if not vacant, closed brick building.

Sakura peered at the tree, contemplating on whether or not it would be smart to run, screaming bloody murder and rape, because what rapist would rape her while the sun was still (barely) out, people were obviously out on the sidewalk, and she—she was not the person someone would want to rape, to be blunt. She's a freaking black belt.

However, since the voice sounded vaguely familiar, she shrugged. "I'm going to, um, my hotel. I think I'm lost."

Damn this being a city. Every street looked exactly the same. Every. Street.

Sasuke peeled off the tree, walking toward the rosy haired girl, an apathetic expression on his face when he was just steps away from bumping into her. "You _are_ lost; the hotel is to the left and you're heading right."

Sakura glanced up to him, wringing her wrists nervously, and smiled lightly. "Um, thanks."

"You're welcome."

She hadn't expected any type of…you're welcome…or anything from him, she was just hopping he would go back to his tree and leave her alone, allowing her to walk to the hotel with the new directions that had better be right, so she could stop making a complete mess out of herself. From the back of her mind, she felt the yellow camera light from the crew, and she sighed.

Privacy is underrated.

Feeling that the silence was growing to long or at least to her, she grinned. "I'm sorry," he quipped an eyebrow, "about earlier, I mean. Gravity sucks."

Sasuke nodded. "It does."

"…Yep…" She sighed, their proximity finally clicking in her brain. She could hear him breathing. Her heartbeat sped like a racecar from underneath her shirt, and she thanked Kami for the fact that the sun was setting, since she was blushing as red as a stop sign. "Listen, um, I never really _formally_ introduced myself."

Sakura stuck out a small, porcelain hand, light green nail polish on her fingernails. She smiled, "I'm Haruno Sakura, and, um, I just turned nineteen a couple months ago. I want to be a doctor, maybe a pediatrician," her words slowed, because she realized she was _rambling _about her life goals to someone who could not possibly care _less_, and he was waiting for her to finish. Sakura laughed nervously, "Yeah, um…yeah."

Sasuke took her hand in his larger, more calloused and rough hand, and he returned the favor. "Uchiha Sasuke; I'll be nineteen in July. Nice to know the name of the woman who, as Naruto would say, almost swallowed my sausage whole." He smiled softly, to which she embodied a tomato (his favorite fruit), blushing so profusely that the red covered from chin to hairline.

"You-You—I-I really am sorry about that, Sasuke-san. I've got to get going now; it's cold and—"

Just when she realized she was babbling _once again_, it was her fallback whenever nerves came to the forefront, Sasuke released their handshake and shook his head quickly. "Sasuke; call me Sasuke."

A wave of, flutter? No, it wasn't flutter, maybe warm butterfly migration? Either way, a wave of warmth crashed over her, and she pulled a strand of hair behind her ear, sheepishly casting her gaze downward, toward her feet. A smile found its way onto her face, and it would've been large, from ear-to-ear, if she allowed her shyness to disappear completely.

"Okay then, Sasuke-kun. I'll catch you later, Alligator!"

Sasuke stood confused for a second, dark eyebrows knitting together, then cleared his throat, downing the last bits of the drink Naruto had brought back from Ichiraku, deeming it the most delectable liquid in the planet.

That _shit_ was disgusting.

Swallowing, he turned toward Sakura, who was already storming away from him and toward the hotel, slapping herself obviously on the head, muttering things about 'Retarded…Alligator…really?' while definitely making a showcase of herself, ripping the doorway of the hotel open, only to find that it was a revolving door, grumbling when she almost fell onto the pavement.

He chuckled to himself, dropping the cup containing the custom drink that Naruto gave him—why did he drink that in the first place? Naruto made it; there might be beetle juice mixed in there somewhere—onto the grassy area like the litterbug that he really was (GASP!) and decided it was time for him to go back into the hotel, too.

(Because, no matter how many times he would try to convince himself otherwise, he was waiting for that girl—_Sakura_, he mentally corrected—to finish, watching her filming with interested eyes, just so he would know that she was alright, and to at least just to find out her name.)

**.****XX****.**

Sakura stepped into their hotel room, gasping at the sheer size and…and…amazing-ness of it, before taking in the fact that everyone was dressed up, at least in a different outfit, and that Ino was in front of her, waiting just centimeters away from the door, softly toned arms crossed across her chest, heavy eyeliner and mascara adorning her baby blue eyes.

The blonde girl glared at Sakura, mouth in a tight line. "What took you so long? I saw the crew leave from the window at least ten minutes ago. Would you happen to know where Sasuke is, as well?"

Her voice piqued, a controlled niceness a mother would use when a completely different slew of words really wanted to be released.

The rosette looked around Ino, seeing Hinata pause in the brushing of her hair, and Naruto rolling around on the ground, pretending to choke himself. TenTen crossed her hands in an 'X' over her face, and Neji just rolled his eyes, irritated. Obviously, Ino had been on this tangent for a long while.

Sakura smiled innocently, "What are you ensuing, Ino-chan? I mean, why would the chances of I knowing where Sasuke is be higher than yours are?"

Ino narrowed her eyes once more, throwing her jacket and purse onto the ground as she turned on her heel, stomping toward the back of the large room, announcing, "I'll be ready to go clubbing in a few!"

Sakura stepped into the hotel room, and glanced toward Naruto, who was still on the floor. "We're going clubbing?" She asked cautiously, sounding especially careful when saying 'clubbing'. She didn't club. She studied.

Naruto climbed up, meeting her at eye-level, though not really; since he was about a half-a-head taller than she was, and nodded, full of energy. "Yeah! It's this new place that's opening tonight."

"Don't we have to be 21?"

Neji shrugged with TenTen, while she voiced, "Me and Neji are both 21. And everyone else is at least 18, so, you can get in—just can't go to the bar. Legally."

Sakura scratched the side of her face, nausea taking over her. _She_ would be going to a _club_. The opening night of a club. Dear Kami, bless her soul. "O-O-Okay, cool. Fun," she smiled falsely, "Want to help me pick my outfit?"

**-****confessional****-**

Ino huffed, plopping onto the red, modernly shaped couch, swiping off imaginary lint from her dress. Her cheeks were blotched red, eyes closed in frustration, showing the silver smoky eye makeup covering the skin.

She changed her positioning on the couch multiple times, crossing her arms, adjusting the bang left out of her ponytail, hands crossed on her lap, finally deciding on popping her head into her hand, elbow pressed into her exposed portion of her thigh.

"So, like," she opened her eyes, anger obvious, "there's this girl, named Sakura-bitch, and she's a sluttish bitch because she's hardly known Sasuke for a whole day, and, excuse me, I think that's _a bit_ to soon to be trying to keep him away from me. Because I like him—so she can't."

Ino scoffed, "She's like the only person I honestly _don't_ like. Stupid Pink Haired Elf Bitch Girl."

**-****confessional****-**

After that statement, Shikamaru glanced at the girl from outside the small lens allotted by the camera, and rose his thin, dark eyebrows. "…don't take this personally, but, I think that was unnecessarily dramatic. What has Sakura done to you?"

"Enough," the blonde barked, "enough to make me decide that _I don't like her_."

He shut off the camera, staring at her with unconcerned concerned black eyes. "'Enough' is a very vague word to rely on when labeling a person. I could call you a spoiled, troublesome, blonde, stupid bitch that would pass a pregnancy test before an economics test because I have 'enough' that would bias me to believe it true, but, that would be ridiculous of me to do, don't you think?"

Ino was at a loss of words, sputtering and searching for something to stand up for himself, and when she finally uttered, "How dare y—", Shikamaru held up a finger, pausing her.

"Go have fun at the club—my shift's over and I'm tired."

With that, he turned his back to her, shouldering his heavy camera, and shutting the door of the confessional room with a loud bang, that made Ino jump the smallest bit. She listened as his tired timbre gave goodbyes to the remainder of her roommates, and strained to hear him leave the excessively large room all together.

She sighed, sniffing and jutting her chin up, sending her nose high in the air as she walked out of the room. What did that Shikamaru know anyway? It wasn't as if he was some genius—he was a _cameraman_, and for a reality show.

* * *

**a/n:**_ chapter two is out! Just as a heads-up, don't expect updates so quickly and with such a long word length (I MEAN, SERIOUSLY, ALMOST 20 PAGES, SIZE 11 FONT! GASP!) often. I was just on a, somewhat, muse. _

_since I feel the aching need to type this; this chapter was more of a 'Behind The Scenes' chapter, but some parts were actually on the show, of which are easily chosen, or so I hope. _

_Also because I have a random aching need to type this, and because I really want to know how many people read these things, lol, please in include __**I am a goofy goober **__in your __**review**__. LOL; it's late…and I'm tired. _

_Anywayz, I haven't __**review**__ed this chapter much, so if there are many mistakes, please forgive me. I just wish I had more time, but I was __**review**__ing one of my friends' stories for her, called __**Review**__ for a P__**review**_.

(_Subtlety was never my strong point. :-))_

Signed,

WhisperingLoudly

(Review, please! Alerts, faves, and everything else are so cool too! You have no idea how giddy I was, reading each review, and seeing each alert. ^^)


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